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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23227216">Find You At the End</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/bad_pigeon/pseuds/bad_pigeon'>bad_pigeon</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Corona Virus, Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abrupt Ending, Alternate Universe - Creatures &amp; Monsters, Angst, Apocalypse, Character Study, Corona Virus - Freeform, Near Future, Original Character(s), Other, Post-Apocalypse, Survival, Survivor Guilt, Virus, Zombies?, is this some kind of bird box predator thing? i guess, no one is going to read this who am I kidding, pure angst, quarantine boredom fic, this is our future guys aha, what the hell am i doing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 12:00:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,244</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23227216</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/bad_pigeon/pseuds/bad_pigeon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Narrator in a post-apocalyptic setting. She/He traverses the landscape in search of food, hiding from monsters. Follow the angst ridden plot...lmao it's just a future fic during corona quarantine. XD</p><p>"It’s the end of the world.</p><p>Like any other apocalyptic scenario that was ever recorded by a big-shot Hollywood director, it looked just like the end of the world. Overturned cars lined up the rubble covered streets, the fumes from their oil-leaked motor engines and burnt wheels were smelt from half a mile over. Shattered glass lined the sidewalks, from old, broken down stores that carried vintage items treasured a lifetime ago. </p><p>Then there were the bodies. The eyes glossed over and smokey-colored, looking at the heavens in an aghast expression. Many butchered and bloodied, their deaths obviously brutal.</p><p>Sometimes, I took the time to stare at them, and sometimes, I ignored them. There was no use in mourning for those who could potentially become fuel later…</p><p>For fires, geesh, I’m not a cannibal.</p><p>Not yet at least."</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Find You At the End</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>just bored lol, first post.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It’s the end of the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Like any other apocalyptic scenario that was ever recorded by a big-shot Hollywood director, it looked</span>
  <em>
    <span> just</span>
  </em>
  <span> like the end of the world. Overturned cars lined up the rubble covered streets, the fumes from their oil-leaked motor engines and burnt wheels were smelt from half a mile over. Shattered glass lined the sidewalks, from old, broken down stores that carried vintage items treasured a lifetime ago. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there were the bodies. The eyes glossed over and smokey-colored, looking at the heavens in an aghast expression. Many butchered and bloodied, their deaths obviously brutal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, I took the time to stare at them, and sometimes, I ignored them. There was no use in mourning for those who could potentially become fuel later…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For fires, geesh, I’m not a cannibal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not yet at least.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Through one of the store front’s glass-less windows, an eerie and yellow-paint-speckled clown dangled from an elongated mannequin pole; a poor victim of some cruel youth’s vandalism. Its hollowed-out eyes stared at the scene, and at me, in front of it; its red lips smiling at how rugged the world looked, like how an abused lover would smile at the misfortune of her ex.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I just stared back at it and then carried about my business. Trudging along the ground in my rubber boots without a care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nearby, a flock of black crows were hungrily pecking at a lifeless animal, I noticed their talons scratching in the dirt for a steady hold, smearing blood along with their motion and covering their beaks with the animal’s red juice. Like the clown, their beady eyes met mine, before I turned away. I did not want to see their smug, upturned faces triumphing over their prize while I hungrily went in search of mine. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My stomach grumbled, an alarming sound, one that could spawn anything nearby craving live prey. I needed to get to my destination fast, before I got discovered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hurried my steps, avoiding the birds, the clown, the mess of the world and honed my focus on one thing: the shopping mall straight ahead. It was only a few kilometers, but if I kept sprinting, I might be able to make it before </span>
  <em>
    <span>they</span>
  </em>
  <span> come out. Once </span>
  <em>
    <span>they</span>
  </em>
  <span> do, I might as well be a dead man walking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My lungs burned, that’s the price for holding myself up in that rusty, old apartment for nearly a week. I spent that time, without any food, licking at any rainwater that happened to drip from the terrace above me, since there was no one around to keep the city’s running water going. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I ignored my lungs and pumped my arms faster, trying to even my breathing in the process. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Almost there, just a little more. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If I could keep up my arm’s steady rhythm, and make it to the building on time, then everything I’ve suffered up until now would all have been worth it: the hunger strikes, the worn out shoes, the lapses of exhaustion I experienced from getting over here. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>All of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scorching sun reflected off of the still-intact windows of the shopping mall. The robust, cubic frame of the building growing larger more and more in front of my eyes with every sore-aching push of my legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Just a little more.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>My breathing began to become quick, but even. The adrenaline kicked in and I could barely contain my excitement. Salvation was only a few feet away and I could just taste it. Sweat poured from my head and my armpits, but I didn’t care. Nothing mattered except survival.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I had almost reached the parking lot, misfortune struck me down along with a pale, blue bucket. I topped over, my knees scraping the cement pavement through my tattered jeans. The thin lining was not suitable armor, and the blow made me lose all the air in my lungs I’ve managed to save. My heart nearly stopped from having all hope leave my body, instead, being replaced by terror and shock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet, that wasn’t the only problem. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The problem was the sound of the bucket, metallic and jarring, as it scratched the pavement with me. It was so loud that I instinctively covered my ears on the way down.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>If the smell of my blood wasn’t a strong enough alert to attract </span>
  <em>
    <span>them</span>
  </em>
  <span>, then that stupid bucket certainly sold me out to any of those nasty </span>
  <em>
    <span>monsters</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, a low, guttural sound bellowed from the other end of the parking lot. Every bone in my body stood still; I knew that sound. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was the sound I heard the first moment the whole world knew something was up. It played over and over on the TV, and me, a child of ten at the time, watched as the newscaster was tackled down on live television. The red-splattered screen cut out just in time for my parents to cover my eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the sound I heard two years ago, when I watched my teacher’s eyes turn towards the open window of the classroom. Her shrieks had gotten mixed in with the sound, but I could still distinguish the two. At that time, I ran for my life, like the coward I am, along with my other classmates, and out the emergency exit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And, this was the same sound that I heard a month ago, as I foraged for food with my parents. I left them momentarily to grab a stupid, empty canteen that we could repurpose. My dad hadn’t let me out of his sight, but the same couldn’t be said for my mother. I watched as </span>
  <em>
    <span>they</span>
  </em>
  <span> tore her apart. The shock of it all made me feel paralyzed on the spot and I didn’t know what to do. I could only freeze as my dad carried me away swiftly, tears in his bright eyes, telling me not to look back. He would have stayed for her, if I hadn’t been there. I went to bed with that thought every night since then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was the sound that plagued me everywhere I went. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I couldn’t escape from it, I wanted a release so bad, but it held on to me tighter than my dad had that day. It held on and didn’t let go, grasping every part of me and squeezing it tight until I couldn’t stand. Until there was nothing left but a hollowed out person staring blankly at the fuzzy TV screen. Because that’s what I did for an entire week. Staring dumbly at nothing, while feeling nothing in return. That was until I heard that sound again, and it grabbed my last anchor to this world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My dad’s eyes, I would never forget them. All the love of seventeen years were put into those eyes, then I didn’t see them anymore because the blood pooled over them and I ran away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, I knew that sound, I was very familiar with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I would never forget: the pain, the tears, the heartwrenching days alone. All of it caused by that sound.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yet this time, I couldn’t lose my focus. My blood felt chilled, and the hair on the nape of my neck stood on end, but I couldn’t just repeat the mistakes I’ve made in the past. I needed to act, and fast.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before I could look over my shoulder and meet the assailant, I quickly got up and bolted under cover of the nearest car.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>End.</em>
  </b>
</p>
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